Overachiever

I had to make my little legs work hard to keep up with my older sister and her friend.  I walked behind them each morning on the way to school because there was only room for two on the sidewalk, and they usually talked about stuff I wasn’t interested in anyway.  We had only walked two blocks, but my fear was already mounting.  I didn’t know where it came from, but it usually settled in my throat, and then my forehead would tighten and begin to throb.

 As we turned the corner, I caught a glimpse of the crossing guard ahead with her neon yellow vest.  My response was instantaneous.  It was as if she had raised a sign that said “Go Home!” I quickly spun and ran as fast as I could, unable to stop the tears.  My sister shouted my name, but I didn’t turn.

My face was wet with perspiration and tears when I rang the bell.  The door opened, and I thrust my small body into my mother’s arms, sobbing, “I don’t want to go to school.”  My mother was probably thinking, “Oh no, not again.”  This had become a pattern:  A few days a week, I returned home 15 minutes after my mother sent me off to kindergarten.  She would calm me down, reassure me and drive me to school so I would get there on time.

 

When my mom asked me why I didn’t want to go to school, she got an “I don’t know” response or silence.  But she could tell that I was tormented by something, a fear so powerful that even a new Barbie doll couldn’t make it go away. 

Years later, my mother told me how she scheduled a meeting with the school principal and my teacher, described my behavior, and pleaded with them to help her understand why I resisted going to class. My mother recalled the teacher’s certain response: “Your daughter is a classic overachiever who feels she needed to know how to read and write before she started kindergarten.”

            This was the first time I was labeled an “overachiever.”  While I’m sure my mother was relieved that my fears weren’t caused by bullying or other social issues, what she probably didn’t realize at the time was that the psychological impact of an overachieving mentality can be almost as damaging. In my case, my desire to get straight “A’s”, to do the best that I could in every endeavor, brought with it self-doubt and an intense fear of failure that was sometimes crippling.

I’ve often wondered why I am so hard on myself.  Why do I always need to perform perfectly and achieve excellence?  What am I so afraid of?  While we all behave in ways that reflect both genetics and environment, I truly believe that my overachieving nature is largely innate.  Parental pressure was not the source of my problem:  While my parents encouraged my sister and me to do well in school, they did not demand top performance.  They only expected us to do our best. 

 “Overachiever” is an interesting term. Some perceive it as the ultimate compliment, but like “overweight” and “overwork,” “overachievement” implies “too much.” It hints of dysfunction.  But can you really achieve too much?  Like “overconfident,” “overachieving” is too much of a good thing. My drive to excel brought me accolades, awards and prestigious jobs. I was proud of what my hard work had produced.  But my achievements did come at a great cost.

My diligence in school earned me a place in an Ivy League university, which was gratifying, and made my parents proud since neither one had gone to college. When I entered as a freshman, I knew the competition was tough; I was going to have to work especially hard to maintain my academic record.  Four years later, I graduated in the top 1% of my Wharton class and my dad still talks about graduation day when he heard my name called out repeatedly for having received all sorts of honors and awards.  But, and there’s a big “but” here, I agonized over every test, paper, assignment and presentation that got me there. 

Even though I studied long and hard for each exam and had a consistent record of doing well, I still believed each time I walked out of an exam room that I had failed the test.  Yes, failed.  Not just “didn’t do as well as I had expected” or “was surprised at how difficult the questions were,” but point-blank “I think I failed.”  Used to my doom-and-gloom stories, my roommate casually deflected them with an “I’m sure you didn’t do as badly as you think,” and Mom always reassured me over the phone, “Honey, you know you tried your best.”

Although it happened time after time, I was still shocked and elated when I saw that my grade was not an “F,” but an “A.” I would glance at the top of my marked exam and stare in disbelief:  How could that be? 

I recall a string of negative experiences that resulted from my incessant drive and counter-productive self-doubt. But the most disastrous one occurred after I landed my first job following graduation, a coveted marketing position with a reputable company. It was my dream job, only I convinced myself that I was an imposter and not as smart and capable as the other college graduates hired at the same time.

             Lack of confidence was the source of my downfall.  I became depressed and unable to perform.  I was so overwrought that I would sit at my desk and mull over the same task for hours, unable to clear my thoughts and figure out how to get it done.  After some time, I decided to quit and go home where I could recover.  Learning from my experience, my strategy in looking for another position was to find one where I felt I was over-qualified and would surely be successful.  It worked.  A few months later, I got a job with another large company where I flourished and went on to have a successful and satisfying career. 

Years later, after taking time off when my daughter was young, I returned to work full-time in a new job.  Unfortunately, my perfectionism and lack of confidence surfaced again.  Being asked to present to a group of senior executives had me shaking in my navy pumps.  I prepared my presentation well in advance and rehearsed it in my mind until I had answers for every question that could possibly be raised.  I lost several nights of sleep before the presentation, envisioning the worst:  standing in front of the room, looking at my slides and forgetting what I had planned to say.  Stage fright.  Someone challenging my conclusion with a point I hadn’t considered.  Lack of preparation.  Still another finding an error in my calculations.  Sloppiness. 

I’m not sure how, but as usual, I got through the presentation and everything went smoothly.  I was well-prepared, appeared knowledgeable and confident, and later received kudos from my boss. 

Luckily, I learned some coping mechanisms.  I realized that action was a good cure for fear:  Starting quickly on a challenging task, something I worried I wasn’t capable of doing, helped me recognize early-on that I could succeed.  Rather than worrying whether I was able to develop a thoughtful business plan, I jumped right into an outline and quickly realized that my ideas were sound and I could access the information I needed to complete it.  I learned how to move from fear and worry to calm and confidence.

In my adult life, my perfectionist impulses spilled over into other areas of my life.  I second-guessed my parenting decisions and worried about being the best mother I could for my daughter.  When hosting holiday dinners for my extended family, I prepared weeks in advance -- planning the menu, cooking and freezing and creating a detailed schedule of when each dish needed to go in the oven and be taken out.  Two hours before guests arrived, my family dispersed to the farthest reaches of the house to escape the anxiety in the kitchen.  Everything had to be perfect!

A few years ago, when my daughter came home for Thanksgiving she remarked how happy and calm I seemed during the preparations.  I had come a long way, knowing that if I started early and kept track of the details, the outcome was predictable - dinner would be delicious and everyone would have a great time, including me! 

In fact, this is now the best way for me to maintain confidence when tackling a project, personal or business– to think back over similar occasions in my life, envision the positive outcome, and know in my heart that I am capable of success.  The key to accomplishing great things and enjoying life is believing in yourself.